


Dovie'ain, Ba'asaya.

by avacash



Series: UAF Gifts [2]
Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Goodbye, Multi, Pregnancy, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 13:08:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avacash/pseuds/avacash
Summary: After the last battle, Min comes to a realization. Happy Holidays, again, ladypoetess. I got you again in the UAF Secret Santa. This is a bit rough, it was hard to write, for a variety of reasons. I've been through a rough year, so writing about happiness was really difficult. Helped, though.





	Dovie'ain, Ba'asaya.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladypoetess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladypoetess/gifts).



> The title is my attempt at translating "Goodbye, my love" to the old tongue- "-ain" is a form of the verb "to be" that's attached to the end of words to form a soft command, "Dovie" has something to do with luck; "Ba'asa" means something like beloved, and "-ya" means "my" or "mine".

Brown locks fell to the ground, their tips singed and choppy. In the confusion of the previous weeks, her hair had grown far past her preferred length, sweeping across her shoulders, an uncomfortable feeling against her bare skin. Rather than sawing it away with some too sharp or too dull knife, she sat still, as cold hands on cold metal snipped away at her hair, neat, and far too slow. The little shears worked with delicate, tiny motions, as the woman who held them obsessed over every curl, ensuring their equal length. Weighed down just enough by a splash of water, the wet strands had begun to curl up, itching to bounce back to their tight coils.

Min squinted at the mirror, propped up in her little canvas tent, its borders smoky and cracked. She watched as Elayne snipped away at her hair, the woman's eyes nearly crossed from intense focus. Elayne chewed on her cheek, twisting her pretty lips to the side, as though she were sucking on some moldy citrus. Her own hair was no treat, tied up in a shaggy blonde mess, resembling dirt more closely than its usual gold. Something like dust caked her skin, her eyelashes and eyebrows simply gone from her face. She seemed a ghost of her usual self, pale and distant, transfixed on the task of Min's hair. Min watched. Elayne kept working.

"Don't you have servants to do this sort of thing?"

Elayne did not respond. Entirely in her own world, captivated by the task at hand, she seemed to have her senses immersed in the relative silence of concentration. That blank look in her eyes betrayed her mind, though Min did not need to see Elayne to know the trouble brewing. Min took a breath, and spoke louder in an attempt to break Elayne from her stare.

"Elayne, don't you have servants to do this sort of thing?"

Still, she did not respond. Min's shoulders slumped, and she sat for a while in silence. Relative silence, that is- the camp burst with energy, as convoys of dozens moved with their slow rhythm outside. The carts and their sticky wheels dragging in the dirt, the horses' hooves hitting the dirt with muffled clicks, the people talking in hushed tones, all contributed to an ambient noise which pervaded the air. An occasional shriek from the medical tents, followed by a breath of silence, provided little variety but a consistent reminder that they were trapped in a war zone. Despite the end of the fighting, too many wounded dealt with the battle as they laid at the mercy of the few remaining Aes Sedai. Exhausted, the majority slept, leaving far too few to mend the wounds of the fallen. Most were cared for by their fellow soldiers, those who had no ability in the One Power, only clean water and bandages.

Aviendha was among the hobbled and fallen, though she defiantly refused every attempt at aid, according to the gossip around camp. Any approach would be met with swift words, as the woman insisted that others were worse off than she. It took at least three strong soldiers to hold her down, as she would on occasion try to rise to help others. Min had not been to visit the woman, but she had heard that even with her feet and hands bandaged, the stunting of the woman's features was painfully conspicuous. Elayne had avoided the tents altogether, staying put in her own, the pains of pregnancy and war alike having wrecked her back. The stench of the wounded wafted throughout the camp, but the pungence within the tents was enough to fell a healthy man, let alone a woman fully pregnant with twins. Even now, she rested against a pile of straw, a pillow at her neck, a bucket at her side.

Elayne peered at Min's now dry curls, still trying to make every lock precise in their length, even across her scalp. Making tiny snips here and there, she focused, far too intent on such a menial task, one that was by all means complete. Min recognized the queen's expression in the mirror, and finally turned to address the woman.

The Queen of Andor seemed to freeze, having been jolted back into the real world by Min's sudden movement. Blinking slowly, Elayne lowered her hand. Min grasped the scissors, and placed them on the ground behind her. They stared at each other briefly, for a moment that lasted longer than the outside world knew. Min's eyes showed her concern, while Elayne's remained glassy and distracted. Min reached out, and touched Elayne's cheek with her fingertips. The dirt coarse, her skin beneath too dry, Elayne's skin almost cracked, the way stone does when heated. Elayne recognized this, and immediately raised a hand to catch Min's, holding the woman's hand in her own, and lowering it away from her face.

Min felt the calluses on Elayne's hand, so uncharacteristic of a noblewoman. "You haven't washed in days."

Elayne squeezed Min's hand, and shook her head. "The wounded need the water more- we have a scarce supply."

"You're carrying two children, your health should be a priority!"

"You know as well as I that there's nothing to worry about with them." Elayne pulled Min's hand closer, to rest on her stomach- Min did not resist.

"Don't turn my visions back on me! You can't use what I've said as an excuse to defy logic!"

Elayne leaned back as much as her cushions would allow, and smiled, her chapped lips stretching enough that they almost bled. She strained her neck muscles for a moment, narrowing her brow and clenching her jaw, stifling a yawn.

"And you need to sleep. When did you last rest?"

Before Elayne cared to answer, the flap of their tent opened. Min yanked her hand away from Elayne, who responded to the intrusion with a second yawn, this one concealed by her palm. A familiar face poked through the opening, dark eyes shining bright, her dark skin darker with shadow. Nynaeve spoke softly- or rather, hoarsely, barely able to make a sound, her throat far too sore to meet her usual loud sound.

"There you are. Come with me, now. I need to check your vitals."

"Oh, go kiss a mule, I'm fine."

"Don't curse at me."

"Actually, don't you have a husband you should be ki-"

Nynaeve's glowering stare froze Elayne's tongue in the middle of her sentence, and she quietly interrupted, "I will pick you up and carry you to your tent if I must."

"I'm fine." Elayne emphasized the last word, the way a child emphasizes their age in introduction.

Nynaeve rolled her eyes, and grabbed Elayne's bucket. Peering at its contents, the liquid sloshing with a thick, almost custard-like consistency, she wrinkled her nose. "Then why is this nearly full?"

After a few minutes more of needless bickering between the two, Elayne was convinced to leave. Min stood, and held out her arms. Elayne grasped her outstretched forearms, and with the help of Nynaeve and Min's strong arms, she got to her feet. Hunched over slightly, her back clearly straining from the weight, Elayne still seemed to stand tall. Despite everything- despite the dirt on her face, despite the mess of her hair, despite the belly that held two babes about to burst, despite the war-torn area surrounding her, despite the two women holding her up- she stood tall.

Min kept one arm around Elayne, holding the woman's hand with her other one, squeezing it occasionally for support, as they made their way to the medical tents. Nynaeve muttered under her breath, soundlessly, as bitter as ever.

The sounds of the tent were muted somehow when they entered, as were the smells. Elayne did not protest as Nynaeve scrubbed the dirt from her skin. Min put up a short curtain to block peering eyes, so that Elayne could be dressed in some clean clothes, unmarked by blood from friend and foe alike. Brown curls frizzing up in the humidity, Min brushed her fingers through them, feeling the freshly cut ends, frankly impressed by Elayne's results.  
Nynaeve's hands were clean and cold on Elayne's skin, her dark skin smooth atop the girl's scar covered stomach. Min traced the marks with her eyes, while Elayne stared at the torn canvas ceiling. Min could not see any lines, or threads, or any glowing lights, but the two of them seemed different, both holding something other than their breath. Despite Elayne's relaxed face and blank eyes, Min could sense her burning worry- not to mention the fact that her hands were clenched, tight enough that if she had any nails left, they would have cut into her palms.  
Unable to bear the compounded worry of Nynaeve, Elayne, and herself, Min left the pair, and wandered the tent. Averting her eyes from the wounded and the working alike, Min shoved her hands into her pockets, hurrying, until she reached her destination. Aviendha, however, slept soundly, and Min saw for the first time the damage she had done to herself.

Hands and feet bound in bandages and tied to the posts of her bed, Aviendha's arms and legs hosted stitches where the shrapnel of rocks had pierced her skin, muscle, and bone. Her hair- even her eyebrows- was not merely singed, but burned away, leaving sparse clumps behind that reeked of smoke and flesh. One eye covered by a bandage for some unknown reason, stitches along her forehead and cheeks, and an ear shriveled and red, she barely resembled herself.

Min did not recoil, but leaned forward, reaching out to touch Aviendha. She froze when she remembered the dozens of soldiers surrounding them. Aviendha squirmed in her sleep, something in her dreams disturbing her rest, her mouth twisting into a frown. Min watched for a moment, before sitting on a stool by the woman's bed, and resting her elbows on the edge of the cot. Not much time passed before she set her hands on the cot, and laid her head in the crook of her elbow, quickly falling asleep.

When she woke, it was by a slap. Not an intentional slap, but a slap nonetheless. Knocked off of her perch on the stool, she fell, catching herself on the sheets. She looked up to see the offender, Aviendha's now loose arm, now working on untying her other restraints. Manic, the woman's eye was wide, and she tore at her bandages in a frenzy. Two people tried to hold her down, while a few others watched, some afraid, some amused. She was babbling about something, and Min could not understand a single word.  
Min stood, and placed a hand on Aviendha's shoulder- the only place she could see without a bandage or set of stitches. Aviendha looked up at her with some kind of rage in her eyes, which immediately softened upon recognition. Min felt the anger, the fear, the intensity, all of it, as it drained away from Aviendha's mind, leaving behind something resembling a tenuous calm. Aviendha's mouth, agape, relaxed, and she let out a yawn, and collapsed back onto the bed. Min looked up at one of the attendants for an explanation.

The woman responded softly, clearly fearful of enticing another outburst. "She's reacted badly to every medication, every herb we've tried."

"What was it this time?"

"Nothing- we gave her some crimsonthorn root to help her sleep, and when she woke, we tried to wash her wounds, and she just went berserk."

Min smiled. "Ah, that makes sense then. She's Aiel- water is as much a scarcity with them as it is here, if not more. She recognizes the wastefulness, even in whatever fugue she's in."

The attendant frowned. "We need to keep her wounds clean, lest she develop an infection."

"Let me talk to her."

Alone, Min watched Aviendha for a moment. Even broken and bruised, the woman was somehow beautiful. Perhaps it was the bond connecting the pair, but she felt an immense surge of love- there was no other word she could think of, the dreamless nap had not helped subdue her exhaustion in the slightest- the second she looked into Aviendha's eyes. Indeed, she felt an even greater wave of it when she looked over at a freshly lit candle, and yet another when she noticed a bug crawling on her knee. Aviendha stared at Min, equally as confused.

Nynaeve approached the pair, covered in blood. Min jumped up, finally withdrawing her hand from Aviendha's shoulder. Nynaeve's hair was pinned back, her dress knotted between her legs to form a makeshift pair of pants, her formerly white apron now stained heavily with blood. She raised a hand, clean and cold, stopping Min in her advance. It was only then that she noticed the grin spread across Nynaeve's face.

It took a minute for Min to understand.

Nynaeve took off her apron, and let loose her hair. She poured a bit of water over her hands from a pitcher by Aviendha's bed, keeping them clean, and offered one to Aviendha. The woman sat up, eyes wide, a smile hiding behind them, a question on the tip of her tongue. Nynaeve nodded, and approached, hands held up, almost defensive. "I'll take you to see her- them- if you let me heal you."

Aviendha considered for a moment, and laid back again, shutting her eyes. Min watched, as the wounds knitted themselves together, the bruises disappearing, the nubs at the ends of her appendages regrowing. Lastly, Nynaeve focused on Aviendha's head, blocking Min's view with her body. When she moved, she revealed the finished product- Aviendha's eye whole as it ever was, and her hair, including her eyelashes and brows, regrown, albeit even shorter than usual. The process took only an hour or so, but it seemed far longer, given the circumstances. Nynaeve waited until the end to heal Aviendha's feet, lest she attempt to run before Nynaeve had finished. Aviendha met Nynaeve's glare with an equal level of annoyance, while Min paced in anticipation.

Once healed and standing, Aviendha leaned on Min, laying her toned, tanned arm over her shoulders, letting the much smaller woman carry half her weight. They followed after Nynaeve, who walked with a hurried pace, though whether her rush was spurned by worry or excitement or some combination was yet to be determined. Aviendha watched the ground, setting her bare feet on the ground with care, each step sure, and far too slow for any one of the three's liking. Their destination being Elayne's private tent, they traversed half the length of the camp before reaching her. The sun rose high in the sky, illuminating their trail with elongated shadows.

Elayne slept, unsurprisingly. Her hair, drenched both with sweat and water, spread like the legs of a squid on her pillows, dripping on the floor. On either side of her bed, a small crib sat, each bare except for a tiny thing, both crying. Min went for the left one, while Aviendha stumbled toward the right. Nynaeve sat by Elayne, wiping away her sweat with a somehow clean towel.

Looking into the eyes of that child, Min saw everything she loved. There were no symbols, images, or scenes dancing around the babe's head, but that did not matter. She saw everything she needed to see in the little girl's eyes. The same grey color of Rand's, they held the hope that she recognized from Elayne. Tears welled up in her eyes, no doubt spurred on by the rush of hormones flooding Elayne's sleeping body, but encouraged by Min's own flooding mix of emotions.

Those grey eyes stared up at her, as the baby's screams subsided. A little twist of blonde curls rested atop the kid's head, wet and red. Unfamiliar with children, Min held the baby with caution, clutching it- her- close to her chest, watching the girl's little fingers curling and uncurling, a tiny movement that was somehow immensely fascinating. It felt as though only seconds had passed, but when she looked up, the sun had set. Nynaeve lit candles around the tent, carefully setting them in iron holders. Min spoke, and found herself choked up. "Is she- I mean, did she, do they- What's her name?"

Nynaeve breathed deeply, and stood. The light of the candles outlined the shadows of her face, revealing the gauntness of her cheeks, the bags under her eyes, and the wrinkles on her forehead. "No names yet."

Min nodded, and looked back down at the baby in her arms. It was odd, seeing a human, feeling their heartbeat, knowing their life was real, and in her arms, yet not knowing their name. She looked up again, realizing that fatigue was setting in, and wanting to sit down. Briefly, she noticed a woman seated in the corner of the tent, just as asleep as the new mother. Min knew instantly that this was Morgase, despite her drastically different appearance from her usual visage as remembered by the kingdom of Andor. Turning back, she saw Elayne groggily waking, Aviendha seated at her side, half asleep, and clutching the baby boy.

She approached the pair, and sat on the edge of Elayne's bed, looking at the woman, something like pride swelling up in her chest. Too tired to speak, unable to stand again, she stared at Elayne, as Elayne looked around the room.

"I gave her several painkilling herbs and medicines. She won't be coherent for a while, but she just had twins, so coherence is not as much a priority as comfort. If it wears off too soon, come find me. I must go." Nynaeve stifled a yawn, and shrugged her shoulders. Elayne's eyes fluttered shut again, and Min glanced over her shoulder to see Nynaeve wave once before ducking out of the tent. "And, congratulations."

The bed was not big enough for five, but Min and Aviendha sat at the edge anyways, each gleaming with a mix of emotions at the little bundles in their arms. Elayne drifted in and out of consciousness, occasionally looking up at the two women, offering a half smile, before falling asleep once more. Morgase woke, but did not move, staying out of the way of the little family.

Sure, the bond the three shared did not extend to the babies, but the bond seemed stronger than ever. Perhaps it was the three being in one spot, perhaps it was coincidence, but the children, with their tiny hands and noses and feet and eyes that stared straight into their hearts, they somehow made it more real. Min felt Aviendha's guilt, her pride, her happiness, and her shameful jealousy; she felt nothing but exhausted love from the sleeping Elayne. Her own emotions were less identifiable, but as she stared into those little gray eyes, she knew one thing.

He was alive, but she would miss him nonetheless, but knowing that he was alive, that was enough. He was out there, he was still there, and he was still hers- he was still theirs. That was enough. But, he was not there. And he did not need to be. Everything she needed was in her arms, and by her side. This little family, this queen and this warrior, and she, whatever she was, and these two children, they were enough. This was enough.

Aviendha sang something, the words soft and unclear, whispered off tone to the babies. The guilt and pride and jealousy melted away, and Min watched, as Aviendha's heart filled to the brim with love for this little thing. Everything fell away, and she sang that battle cry as though it was a lullaby. The words became nonsense, as Aviendha just hummed the melody, a slight smile on her face, her eyes soft, and half shut.

In that moment, everything was silent. It was not the same relative silence as that morning, but a far more rudimentary silence. It was the sort of silence one experiences when they reach the point of quiet satisfaction. Quiet, here, not meaning not loud, but merely existent, only as much as it needs to be, no more, nor less. It was quiet, too, as the horses slept, and the people settled down for the night. Yes, the noise would resume in the morning, but for now, all was good.


End file.
